On March 8 world wide Women's Day celebrations occur. In some countries the celebrations are bigger than others. And within those countries some cities, and towns have elaborate celebrations and recognitions of the strong women and their cntributions to society. Oddly enough, I believe Women's Day has its origin in the United States of America and this year in Burkina Faso is the first time I recall participating in the international celebration. I'm not sure what you all were doing on March 8, 2007, but this is my story.

At 6am I woke up excited that the day had actually come. All of my preparation and worries about the success of the day no longer seemed in vien because the day had arrived! I choose two t-shirts to wear with my women's Day skirt and pants made by the only female tailor in my village. (there are over 10 and well shes the only lady) I decided I would wear the pants with my UVA resident staff t-shirt. I planned to participate in the bike race and what better way to cross the finishline than to be sporting the orange and blue! Plus the Womn's Day fabric had orange in it.

T-shirt #2 is a personal favorite given to me by Jadrian one Christmas and it reads: "It is better to be hated for what you are than to be loved for what you are not." And well being the opinionated women I am, I figured I'd make a statement even if no one can read english. haha!

The bike course was pretty much a straight shot with a few bumps and pot wholes in our red dirt road. I lined up with 9 other women to bike about 1km to the finish line. The entire village was certain I would get first place, but considering I am a stranger tring to empower girls and women, I did not want to win the race. Yes, my bike is in better shape than anyone else's and I bike 15km about 2-3 times per week, but I didn't want to over do it and show off too much. The prizes for the bikers was money and the top 3 would win inproved mudstoves I made with the elementary school students. So my plan was to at least be behind the first 3 women.

Well the whistle was blown and we were off! To my surprise these women were moving fast! They were not moving at their usual snails pace I was used to. There was no way I could bike that race and be last, but Lord knows it was hard work getting 4th. It was no cake walk like I thought, but nonetheless I had fun. And I won 1000francs (approx 2 dollars).

After a short break I was off preparing for the elementary students' play held at noon. The title of the play is "Laafi Noma" or "Good Health." Its the story of a little school girl who insists on sharing the lessons of hygiene with her mother who is stuck in her old ways and dismisses all of her daughter's advice that begins with "the teacher said..." For example, the girl, Songempoli, intially refuses to eat because she does not have water in the basin to wash her hands, but her mother scolds her and she eats.

Finally, Songempoli gets sick. Uncertain what to do Songempoli's father goes to see the village traditional healer. (see photo) The traditional healer tells him a bad spirit has taken hold of his daughter and gave him the remedy to heal the young girl. Well, the medicine only worked temporarily and the mother insisted on taking her baby girl to the docotor dagainst her husband's wishes; he believed this was "not an illness for a hospital."

It turns out that Songempoli had some bacteria from eating with dirty hands. The nurse then gave a talk in the village on ways to avoid such sicknesses like washing hands, using latrines instead of using the bathroon outside behind the house and ways the people could get information on constructing latrines. Also she discussed the advantages of sing water from the pump versus from the well as it is often muddy and full of bacteria.

The play was a hit! Not only were the students funny, they covered two serious issues in a nonobtrusive way: the inportance of listening to the advice children learn at school and ways to improve health problems by preventing them. Im so proud of my babies!

After the students' play the women of the village performed a play on forced marriage, an issue certainly pressing on the minds of many young women and some men. Using a similar tactic, the women evoked tons of laughs in order to discuss a very difficult and culturally sensative topic. (see photo) I can't take credit for the success of that play, but I am happy to say that just by me intiating the play for the students the women got together to organize a play on an issue they really felt important...yes the heart of a vlunteer's work is getting the villagers to take intiative from the questions you pose and suggestions you give...I have not given up yet!

It was almost 3pm in the afternoon and I had yet to eat, but I promised the girls in my elementary school that I would play soccer with them before the married women versus married men's game that evening. I rushed home made some macaroni noodles with peanut sauce (a sauce I learned to make here. Most people eat it with rice, but I was all out) I ate literally 3 hand fulls and was off to play soccer.

I played with girl's team #2 and we played hard. It was clear by the number of times the ball went out of bounds and the fact that all of the girls were crowed around the ball that we were all novices. I'm no good at any sport other than long distance walking, if that counts. And you would think that these girls would be pros considering their athletic builds and soccer is the #1 sport here. Well thei athletic builds can be accredited to carrying gallons of water from the pump, grinding corn and helping their families in the fields. Soccer is played by boys and men so we were breaking gender lines, falling all over the place and having tons of fun. My team won 1 to 0. (see winning team photo) I'm sure the game was as interesting to watch as it was to play. After the soccer game we took pictures and drank lots of kool-aid! hahaha...Kool-aid! (it was really flavoraid, but its the same thing nearly) I felt at home.

The adult game was also a sight to see. As the sun began to set and a breeze came over the feild the women set the place on fire. They won 5 to 1. Some say the women "bought the men," in other words the game was rigged, but I would like to think it was either sheer luck or their tremendous skill. Nonetheless; it was a good game. After the game we drank Zomb-Comb, a drink made from small millet and tamarin. Its good and has a sweet but spicy kick to it.

The night was supposed to end with me dancing until I dropped, but I guess the sleep caught a hold of me before the dancing part. So I ended the night just dropping :-)

Its the first Women's Day celebration I remember and it is one I will never forget. there were mqny odds against us like not mqny people coming to the plays as promised and men insisting that our celebration was weak, but the women who participated had a ball and thats all that matters. Our Womens Day Celebration was small in number but large in love and excitement. I can't wait until March 8, 2008!

If I have ever written you a letter during my stay here at some point in the letter I probably said something like: "Life is confusing, frustrating, and complicated and I love every minute of the experience; I can't think of anything else I would be doing if I were not here." I usually also say something like: "I am learning so much about my strengths and weaknesses because I am so far away from everything and everyone I understand as 'normal' everyday life."

Hmm...all of this is true, but my love-hate relationship is definitely challenging at times. Just an FYI, ok 2 FYI's: 1I have a letter writing rule that if I write and don't hear from you in 3-4 months you can count on not getting another letter until you write back. Sometimes I write more than once in a 2-month span without response, but you should show a little love back...I won't say any names or titles, but you know who you are! 2. I am writing this blog entry about my personal experience. It should not be over generalized to every volunteer's experience in Burkina Faso, Africa, or the other countries and continents of the world. I know how some people get a little carried away.

So back to the subject at hand... I work as a Girl's Education & Empowerment volunteer (see blog entry: working days). I have, I guess what you would call, 2 doors into the community- my counterpart, who is the school director, and also the A.P.E/A.M.E., which is equivalent to the PTA (Parent Teacher's Association) except the APE is made of the fathers and the AME is the mothers. (I think I explained before basically every aspect of live is separated by gender: eating, church service, holding hands, etc when you are not in a big city). Most of my interactions between the community and I are mediated by my counterpart. That includes scheduling meetings, interpreting my French into local language, getting to know the community, etc. Work on a large scale is done through the APE/AME. As a matter of fact they are the ones who found and take care of my housing. (Thank you very much my house is beautiful :-).)

I have regular contact with the counterpart/school director because he was the first person I met before coming to my village, he is my local supervisor, I work as a member of the school staff, and he and his family are probably one of the closet relationships I have in village (aside from my neighbor).

My relationship with the APE/AME is a little different. Unlike my school director, they are actually from my village. Government employees, including teachers, are assigned to random villages in a region. They live there for a few years (usually 2-5) to do their work and then are assigned to another village. So the members of my APE/AME know the customs and traditions of the community better than my counterpart would since he has only been there for 2 yrs. As with any PTA-like program, the parents have jobs or other work to do other than have meeting at the school. Most of the members are cultivators; in fact, I think all of the executive board of the APE/AME in my village is cultivators. Needless to say, they don't have much time on their hands to spend getting to know the ins and outs of my job.

Since I have been here I scheduled one meeting with the AME (mothers), once meeting with the APE(fathers), and one meeting with both. At the meeting with the mothers 3 members showed up, the secretary, co-secretary, and events coordinator and the meeting started 1 and a half hours after is was scheduled to because only one of the 3 was present. At the end of the 1 hour long meeting the vice president came. So I lied, there were 4 members present.

At the meeting with the APE after 2 and half hours of waiting no one showed up. And the president, who stopped me on the side of our dirt road on my way to school to confirm the meeting, went on a trip somewhere. Growing Pains!

For the joint meeting the secretary, treasurer, and events coordinator for the AME was present within the first hour of the meeting time. Fr the APe the secretary came an hour late and about 10 minutes before the meeting was over another APE member came.

In all fairness I need to explain a few things on their behalf and put things into a logical cultural context. First off being on time means very little to cultivators for the most part. They gauge the house of the day by the position of the sun. So if it is a little cloudy that day, judgment might be a little off. Also in terms of punctuality, being an hour late to a meeting is like being 10 minutes late to us. Time is not money here. I mean at least they showed up! In terms of workload, like I said all of the members are cultivators, Cultivating is hard and time consuming. If you don't do it yourself no one else will. It's their livelihood in terms of feeding families as well as a source of income (but not for all-some are subsistence farmers: they farm/cultivate to eat). Another argument on their behalf is that when I got here it was the rainy season and that is peak cultivating time. The rainy season is over and so it is time to recult (gather everything from the fields...that might be recult or maybe harvest in English...I think cultivate might be farm in English also...there are words in French that I can't always remember the English word for, but I know what they mean.) In a nutshell, they are busy!

Regardless as to how busy they are, I am still expected to work on the goals of my project. In the joint meeting I asked the APE/AME to help me to get to know members of the community. Their response was I don't speak local language well enough for them to help me (I think it was a joke, but it is not a very funny joke when you are new in town). Growing Pains! I guess it is understandable how it would be hard, but I just learned to speak French, I'm learning one local language, but considering that my village has about 4 different languages WILL SOMEBODY CUT ME SOME SLACK!

Anyway, I have activities to do that help me get to know the community and help the community to look inward and start discussions about their development ideas. Considering that my community is so diverse, I figured I would do the activities with the chief of the village and his group of advisors. This way I could have a wide range of info from different parts of the community to have a clear sense of the community.

Because I don't speak local language I had a meeting with my counterpart and decided to use the secretaries of the APE and AME as well as him and another teacher to lead activities. Plus in the spirit of sustainable development, it is better to use the community members themselves to lead activities because is better received than from an outsider (that would be me). We set a date form me to train the 4 of them and a date for the actual application of the activity.

The day of the training, the APE secretary, my counterpart, and the female teacher were all present and ON TIME! (Growing?!?!) The AME secretary was not present, but since the female teacher was there she is confident enough to lead the activities alone (the activities are done separated by gender to ensure everyone’s ideas and opinions are voiced). I trained them, they understood, life was good.

The day of the actual activities we lugged 3 portable chalkboards to the village chief's house. My counterpart, teacher who is leading the activities, 2 other teacher for a little moral support, and I sat at the chief's house from 8am-11am and no one showed up other than the chief and 2 old men who live there. Notice I never said the APE secretary came because he didn’t and just a reminder he was supposed to least the activity.

Well after waiting so long the chief and one of the old men suggested rescheduling. It is normal to be 1 and a half hours late, but not 3 hours late. I left there not at all sad, because I am getting used to what people here call "l'heure Africaine," which means African time or late. (I'm a little sick of race based time...I mean it is just not nice to generalize like this, but I see why one might be lead to feed into the foolish terms). Plus while I was there, the teachers and I discussed some strategies for me to have study groups with kids who don't have a lamp or oil at their house. And it was a good lesson from the "school of patience." We rescheduled and I went on my way without thinking about it twice.

that night I was hanging out with one of my village friends, who is also doing development work for environmental improvement. He is actually really cool and we often talk about religion, philosophy, psychology, human development, and first encounters of village life and cultural exchange. He is Burkinabé, but grew up in the capital as well as 2 other large cities in Burkina. His first assignment an extremely small village that was ethnically different from his. He didn’t speak their language, and they spoke no French. Needless to say, he understands my struggles even though he is Burkinabé.

Anyway, we got on the subject of the process for joining the Peace Corps and why the heck am I doing it. I explained the long tedious process of essays, medical exams, and lots and lots and lots of waiting that can take 1, 2 or 3 years to complete and I am doing it all because, well...I'm weird. LOL. During the conversation he said something along the lines of "that is a long process and not easy either when you can live in the states and have an easier life because you already understand how it works, but you came here." I agreed and said "only if everyone else knew what I went through, they would come to my meetings." We laughed for a while and he gave examples of meetings he scheduled weeks in advance that were pretty much forgotten or not that important to the villagers. And his advice was just to continue to be patient and work with the people that will work with me. Good Advice.

Well being the curious person he is, he did a little investigation to find out why no one came to my meeting. I had no idea he was going to do so, but I'm glad he gathered the information because it is very interesting results. Drum roll please...no one came to my meeting because the APE was not invited/informed. AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH! WHAT ON EARTH IS GOING ON?!?! DID I MISS SOMETHING?!

Let me just recap: the APE secretary and AME secretary were scheduled to lead the activity...hmmm somebody knew! Plus when I schedule meetings with them usually no one or just a few people show up. And that is so annoying to crusade against someone just because you don’t feel like the proper people were informed so you tell everyone else to boycott. GROWING PAINS!

So this has been a life lesson I am taking very seriously. One thing, I passed the inform along to my counterpart who then shared it with the respective people. I am starting to have suspicions that everything between him and the community are not normal, but I'm not sure. In the future, I will inform the respective persons myself. Also the two secretaries are the same ethnic group as my counterpart so some people understood that as my counterpart choosing to only work with his ethnicity. No one considered that they are the only 2 that know how to write...go figure! Also, by me going to do the activities at the chief’s house with his assembly, it seemed like I was trying to leave them behind like I was fed up with working with them...which I was not, I was just trying to use other strategies.

Well, now I have a long apology-meeting schedule. From not on I will do activities with them and when I am interested in venturing out to other sources in the community, I will "ask their permission/favor" first just as a sign of respect for the cultural work protocol. My hope is that this misunderstanding and cultural confusion can be put behind us and our working relationship will improve.

It is definitely a frustrating way to learn cultural protocol, but it was a lesson I had to learn. This "school of patience" is hard, but I am making it. Thank God for the growth during the hard times and pain. Oh those growing pains. **sigh**

This one is for my dear friend Jessica. You too can get a shout out if you ask good, funny, or interesting questions. So I encourage you to do so.

I live in the twilight zone. I pee in a hole in the ground, have a cell phone but no electricity, and I have a stove but no oven.

The hole

As I explained in a previous blog I use a latrine (outhouse) because there is no running water in my community. And just to clear things up, I do not dig the whole myself every time I want to go. This is how it works. Some man comes and digs a hole in the ground I guess about 6 to 8 feet deep and about 6 to 8 feet wide. Somehow he covers most of the hole with cement creating a hollow box so to speak. I think he uses strong metal poles…not 100% sure exactly how it is constructed…but I’m doing my best here…sheesh! So like I said there is a huge hole in the ground. It makes no sense if I want to use the bathroom to go to this huge hole in the ground because I may fall into this pit of yuckiness. (I’m going to try to explain again) So the huge hole in the ground is covered with cement, yet hollow, leaving a hole in the cement about 10 by 10 inches…just enough room to do your business in the huge hole without falling in. I know how I can explain it…Imagine a 2-liter soda bottle…but only square and wider to create a bit of a platform. The little hole at the top lets you get the soda out, but the big deep bottle holds all the soda in. Well the latrine is like that except I am not trying to get anything out of there…just put stuff in.

Don’t fret; they build walls around the large hole in the ground with the little hole on top of the big hole so everyone is not watching you go in the hole in the ground (also known as latrine). Some are constructed with cement walls around it and a door with a lock and key. Others just have walls, and others have walls and a ceiling with a door…it all depends. I have walls and a door with a lock and key, but no ceiling, which I prefer because I can get quite claustrophobic in there. FYI: make sure you look up latrine online or in a book, or ask someone you know that might camp a lot because I absolutely butchered the explanation. It makes little sense to me and I wrote it so I am sure you are all lost or looking at the soda bottle in the refrigerator trying to imagine walls on top with a door. Sorry guys…LOL.

Cell phone

Ok, I think I can explain the cell phone and no electricity with ease. I personally live in a village without electricity, but the entire Burkina Faso is not a village they have cities too, and also there are some villages with electricity. (Sometimes I feel like I have to justify using the word village on a website I know Americans are gonna read because the mind automatically goes to the sometimes true, but often exaggerated images often seen in American media. FYI there are cities; not in the sense of the word city that we think of it, but its not like a village either.) So my village…we don’t have electricity, but Burkinabé are very intelligent and creative people. Those who can afford it buy car batteries and somehow pull energy from those as a source of electricity. Most often they only use electricity at night maybe to watch the news, soccer, and to charge their cell phones. In my village of about 4000 people…maybe less, maybe more…I would venture to say that only 20 people use the car battery as a source of power. I am in the group of 3800 who do not. I can afford it, but I don’t have a tv to watch and so I would buy this huge car battery just to charge a little cell phone…not so much. As you know hospitality is most people’s middle name so if I ask, most people will let me charge my cell phone without a problem. I may reconsider buying a car battery set up during the hot season so I can use a fan.

My nearest neighbor, about 15km (1 hour bike ride away) has electricity in her village and will soon have it in her house. Most of the time when I bike there once a week, I charge my phone at a tele-center because the battery lasts longer coming from a direct source of power.

Stove with no oven…

I have a gas stove that sits on top of a table in the room I call my kitchen. It has 2 regular size eyes and one small one good for boiling tea water. I just have the top part of the stove connected to a bottle of gas like a propane bottle on your gas grill at home…or your neighbor’s if you don’t have one. And I have no oven. I am not quite sure how an oven works and why it is not possible for me to have a whole stove and oven set up, but that is what I have and I am grateful.

So how do I bake if I am in the mood? Well, I have not tried thus far, but I hear that it works. (The one time I tried to make oatmeal cookies, I fried them and they tasted horrible because I did not have butter…I used oil and in the future I think I will use the technology I’m about to describe). There is something called a dutch oven. All you need is a big pot, sand, and three empty soup cans.

1. Put the sand into the pot, the first time cook it for about an hour or all of your baked goods will taste just like mother earth. Throughout the baking process the pot will be atop the gas stove heating up.

2. Put the three clean and empty soup cans bottoms up in the sand in a triangular formation.

3.The food you are interested in baking goes into its baking dish goes on top of the soup cans. Put the lid on and this creates an atmosphere similar to a stove.

It’s as easy as one-two-three. The only problem is there is no nob to indicate the exact heat of the oven. So if you mail me cake mix for my b-day, no worries, I can bake it!

So for now I have no oven, but I can make that happen without much trouble, I just have not had much to bake since I have been here.

I said I live in the twilight zone because there is so much about life that is very traditional, but so oddly sprinkled with modernity. There is absolutely nothing wrong with my life, but sometimes it feels weird using a cell phone that I have to travel to charge.

I'm not sure if I told you all that most nights I eat dinner with my neighbor, the boutique owner, and his family. In case I did not tell you, now you know...HAHAHAHA. Anyway, I have tried multiple times to cook dinner for myself and wat at home, but when I do he still makes me come outside to eat with them. So I eat a little at home just in case I don't want to eat To (pronounced "toe"-but no worries it is not a part of the foot of any animal...it looks like grits if you ask me. Its made out of corn or millet flour.)

It started with me eating dinner dinner, next it turned into lunch as well. ere goverenment buildings shut down from 12noon-3pm for lunch. I work at the school three days a week and when I come hom for my midday break, lunch is waiting for me. I would like to cook lunch for myself, but its there and hey, why not...

The crazy thing about it is they make dinner and lunch for me just because they want to. Hospitality is like the number one priority here. Every once in a while when I'm home during the day I rush to make lunch for them before they have the chance to prepare. They never like anything I make because I don't put enough salt, oil, and hot peppers in it for them. Most of the time they just kinda push it around in the bowl and make the little kids eat it. But the little kids usually say, "I'm not eating white people food." hahaha. But I do it because I don't want to feel like I am always taking from them, eventhough by no means do they feel like that.

Another thing I have started doing is buying food for all of us. I can afford food that has more variety and nutritional value and since this family does everything they can to make me feel a part of the community, why not share. Plus I get sick and tired of eating To with oakra sauce for every single meal...the boutique owner had a stomach ache once so he thinks that it is because his wife made a sauce that did not agree with his stomach too well. So he only wants her to make okra sauce. He thinks it was the sauce; I think it was just life, but you can't argue with everyone about everything so okra sauce it is...So I buy veggies, rice, beans, and spaghetti and give it to them as my contribution. I only buy one or two things at a time like once a week since he prefers To with okra anyway.

Anyway, I kind of went off on a tangent to get to my main point. Last night after dinner I actually held a converstaion with the boutique owner's wife and little brother. That is pretty monumental for me considering that they only speak Moore. I often talk to the boutique owner and to others who stop by to hand out and they translate for me into Moore. Last night, however, the conversation was between me, the wife, and brother. Granted our converstaion was not very extensive, but we laughed and smiled and I understood what they were saying to me and they understood what I was saying to them...using lots of gestures and over exaggerated movements...whatever works!

During the conversation, Pascal, that's the younger brother, said that I could call him my younger broter and he said I was his big sister. I just wanted to let you all know that there are tear welling in my eyes right now because it just feels so good having neighbors that feel like family. I left my bloodline in the states to venture into "who knows what" and once I got here the Peace Corps gave me a family that was trained to help me and then I had to leave them. But now in a community where I am the only american, where I call the shots about my life, a family has chosen to take me in as their own. All I can say is thank you God!

I never thought that a young boy around 15 or 16 yrs old calling me big sister would make me cry, but hey, maybe I'm turning into a cry-baby "in my old age" like daddy :-). Its not just Pascal calling me big sister, or laughing together, or the two sons (about age 4 and 1) coming over to play, or the smiles on their faces, its everything all wrapped into one.

I'm not integrated by any means just yet and things still surprise me everyday. However, there are many things that just seem like a part of life. I am just so happy that I can make this journey with these neighbors. This is going on month 2 of 24. I'm taking it step-by-step...I wonder what it will be like at the end.

Hello All!!

I am in good health and all is well. I moved to my new village and there is no interent connection there so I am mailing letters to my parents with blog entries to post for you guys so the good stories are coming...

So if there are typoes and confusing parts to the entries its not my moms fault...she will be trying to decode long letters with sweat marks and little scribbbles of flowers from when I got side tracked from handwriting all the entires...SO HAVE BE PATIENT!

Start checking the blog every three weeks or so because hopefully that is how quickly the stories will get to her. Also, for safety purposes as you can imagine my adress will not be posted here so get it from my mom if you are interested in sending letters and love.

Aisha quick stats:

Height: same

Weight: I think she disappeared

Eye color: Brown

Race: according to Burkinabe white...according to Americans about 4 shades darker

Language: Je parle francais et mam gumda moore biliful biliful...I sepak french and a little moore

Athleticism: I bike...A LOT! 15km here and 35km there...whatever im in the mood for!

Hahaha...Ca va aller!

Sorry guys...i accidently posted the last one as private and that is why you all could not see it...also...that day i ran out of time and could not finish the story. Unfortunately, I am out of time today and dont have much time to update, but I would like to tell you that I am in good health.

I went to see the site I am gonig to live in for the next 2 years after training. It is sooo beautiful there. Also, I found out that there is no internet in my village so I am not quite sure how the blogging is going to work. But, hey you guys won't miss a beat since it didnt work last time anyway...lol.

Love you all!

You know...I ask myself the same question everyday! Well since I just started the blog I will use this one to give you all a quick view of

what my project is about, my typical training day, and any funny stories I want to add :)

The project: Girls Education and Empowerment

The name is pretty self explanatory, I am here to empower girls. I will be working with the director of a school in a small village to share with parents the importance of sending their girls to school, encourage self-esteem, and share the idea that the education of women is beneficial to the entire community. (fyi: this is a breif overview and in future blogs you will hear about my work so dont you worry)

Training Days...

So for now I am training to be a volunteer for the Peace Corps. Training lasts for 3 months. During the three months of training I have language classes, cultural training, and obviously...training on how to culturally appropriotely empower young girls and women. You would think that sticking soleone in a classroom all day to tell them about the culture would be th most boring and least useful way to introduce them to how things work in that culture. Well you are right...and that is why I dont sit in a class all day just to learn culture; I live with a host family in a village not too far from a larger city. I dont have electricity, or running water. So I take bucket baths, use a latrine, and when the sun goes down...I go to sleep! I live in village with four other trainees and a language and culture facilitator (LCF). And sone days we bike about 25 minutes to the larger city for training sessions with the other 33 volunteers.

5:00am: chickens and farm animals start their noise

5:25am: my host mom sweeps the floor

6:00am: I stop pretending to sleep because I have been up since the animals started making their noise

6:15am: Bucket bath

6:45am: Breakfast (usually baguette and tea)

7:00am: prep for

6